


Visitors and Voices

by Yvette J (HowNovel)



Category: Starman (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1988-11-07
Updated: 1988-11-07
Packaged: 2017-10-25 19:19:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowNovel/pseuds/Yvette%20J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul discovers the extent of music's inspirational powers when he meets a young homeless girl who is guided by the songs she sings.  Through this meeting, he discovers the emotional connection that he has to others through the power of a song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visitors and Voices

  
**Visitors and Voices**  
By: YvetteJ

Copyright © 1998 All rights reserved. This story is a work of fiction based on characters and situations created in the 1984 feature film and 1986-87 television series, _STARMAN_. It is an amateur publication circulated without profit for the enjoyment of fellow fans. No infringement of existing copyrights is intended.  
---  
  
Paul Forrester walked alone in the darkness, his mind wandering and as he made his way, he heard music. It sounded as though someone was using a tape recorder, the kind that caused the tapes to periodically drag from overuse or extended playing.

He continued to walk and the music steadily grew louder. He smiled feeling as though the song playing was there for a purpose, and this one was to accompany him to the supermarket where he would buy food for that evening’s meal. His son, Scott, was waiting at the hotel and he wanted to get everything before it got too late.

As he reached a corner he discovered from where the music had originated. A young woman was standing in ragged clothes and singing. Her voice was strong and confidant, but at her feet a basket was placed to one side of a small tape recorder. The music he had heard had come from her.

Paul cast a glance inside the basket that was next to her feet. Discovering that it was empty made the starman quite sad. _Why is it that a person must be forced to live like this?_

Instead of coming closer to her, he remained in the shadows as the song ended and a second man approached.

This man was impeccably dressed in a suit and tie, and although he appeared to be in a hurry, he stopped and addressed the woman. “Why don’t you go home?” he asked as he casually kicked the recorder over. “No one in their right mind would pay to hear you sing. They’d only pay if you stopped.” He continued on his way without so much as a glace back in her direction.

The woman lowered her head, but slowly leaned down and picked up the tape recorder. When she suppressed the ‘play’ button, the small machine made a strange grinding noise and stopped.

The music was gone.

She wiped her hands over her eyes and sighed deeply. It was clear that she was willing herself not to cry and as her gaze drifted to the sky, she smiled somewhat sadly. “Now, this is broken,” she said softly as she picked up the basket and started to turn around. “Maybe he was right; this is no way to live.”

“I was listening,” Paul found himself saying.

The young woman stopped everything she was doing and watched as he emerged from the shadows. In his hand, he held a folded up five dollar bill. This he extended to her. “Here, maybe this will help.”

She accepted the money and put it in her pocket. “Thank you.”

Paul nodded. “Would you happen to know where I can find a supermarket? I don’t know the area so well.”

The girl nodded as she felt a rumble in her own stomach. “Yes,” she offered. “It’s just down that way. It’s not far, if you want me to, I can show you.”

“That would be very nice,” he said. “It’s rather hard to be new in town and to not know the neighborhood. Your help is greatly appreciated.”

“That explains why I haven’t seen you around here,” she said. “Generally, I know just about everyone here. At least I did before the oil refinery opened on the outskirts of town. Now there are a lot of people moving into the area and I can’t know them all.”

“That makes it harder to earn a living, doesn’t it?” Paul asked. “You have so many people who would rather hurt you than those who are willing to help,” a pause. “My name is Paul, what’s yours?”

“Jasmine,” she responded as she led him further down the street.

“Do you sing for a living, Jasmine?” Paul asked.

“No, I sing in order to live,” she responded dryly. “I came here several months ago. I figured I had a choice, either sing or become a call girl.”

“A call girl?” Paul asked. “Who would you call?”

“No one,” she said looking at him somewhat strangely. “Life on the streets isn’t so great, and girls like me generally end up selling themselves. I couldn’t do that, so I thought maybe I could try to get by doing what I love.”

“How many songs do you know?” Paul asked opting to change the subject.

“Many songs,” she said more to herself than to him. “Back in Omaha, my brother and I would sing together. It was so much fun to learn a new song and to harmonize with him.” As they reached the end of the street, she pointed. “Well, just like I promised, there’s the store.”

“Thank you very much for your help,” he said as he walked over to the entrance and went inside.

Jasmine watched him for several moments before placing the broken tape recorder on the ground. _be I would do better using this pitch, instead of the street corner,_ she thought as she hesitantly looked around. _It couldn’t be any worse than the treatment I get from the refinery workers._

Realizing that she was no longer on the supermarket’s property, she placed the basket at her feet and began to softly sing; her voice shaky at first, but soon it filled the star-filled sky.

“Calling occupants of interplanetary craft, we are your friends...” As she sang, her voice became stronger and stronger. “You’ve been observing our Earth and we’d like to make a contact...”

Her voice broke as the security guard approached her with a stick in hand. “Get out of here, you vagrant,” he sneered. “You’re scaring off the customers.”

As he came closer to her, Jasmine backed several steps away and stood frozen as the man raised his stick with the intention of striking her. Instinctively, she sank to her knees with her hands now firmly resting behind her neck.

When the stick finally came down, it abruptly stopped in mid-air.

“I don’t think she is scaring anyone, but one might question whether or not what you are doing would,” a soft voice emerged and this caused Jasmine to raise her head to see that Paul had approached and was now gripping the stick. “Why do you try to harm those who are weaker than you? Is that your definition of being a man, threatening to beat up this young girl?”

The man looked at Paul before his cold gaze came to rest on Jasmine. He turned away with the intention of leaving, but before he did, he turned back around and regarded them for the last time. “If I see you here again, girl, I’ll call the police.”

Jasmine remained on her knees as a gentle pair of hands eventually came to rest on her trembling shoulders. “Are you all right?” Paul asked.

She nodded shamefully. “I guess so.”

Paul moved his hands from her shoulders to her hands. When he held both of them in his, he helped her to her feet. “What was that you were singing when the man approached you back there?” he asked. “I rather liked the text, but only heard some of it when I came outside.”

“I heard it several years ago. It’s a bit of a silly song called ‘Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft’. I can’t remember who did the original version, I only remember that a group called ‘The Carpenters’ did a rendition of it,” she smiled weakly. “I guess it’s kind of silly to think that we’d one day have contact with beings from another world. Who would want to have contact with us anyway?”

“Oh I don’t know, I’m sure someone out there might,” Paul said smiling secretly.

“They’d have to be insane,” she mused.

“Maybe not, maybe they have a perfectly logical reason,” Paul offered. “What other kinds of songs do you like to sing?”

“The ones that have meaning to me,” she said as she leaned over and retrieved the cassette player. “People don’t like my music. It’s like the man who broke this; he has no idea that this is how I have to live. He has a home and a family and doesn’t have to scrape by for food. He probably has no idea that if I don’t make enough money during the day, then I don’t eat.” She shook her head, all the while trying to be strong, but failing miserably at it. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to unload my problems on you.”

“You didn’t,” Paul offered as he cast a glance towards the bag of food that he now held in his arms. “Why don’t you come with me, Jasmine?”

“Why?” she asked nervously.

“I have to get back to the hotel so my son won’t worry, but, I bought enough food and we wouldn’t mind sharing some with you.” As he spoke, he reached over and rested his free hand on her shoulder. As her emotions rushed into him, he squeezed it gently. “You have nothing to be afraid of, I won’t hurt you. I’m just trying to help.”

“You don’t have to,” she began, “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

“I don’t feel sorry for you, I feel sorry for the man who has no music in his heart. Where I come from, music is very, very special,” Paul said smiling.

Jasmine smiled weakly. As much as she wanted to accept his offer, she could not let go of the fact that he had affirmed how scared she was. He was a virtual stranger as well as a man and she was a homeless girl living on the streets. If that did anything, it heightened her awareness that not every person who spoke to her kindly meant that they did not intend her any harm. Logic was telling her that he had helped her by giving her money and then saved her from a beating by the security guard. When Paul spoke with her, she realized that there was something about him that she trusted enough to want to stay in his company.

After several moments of silence had passed between them she found her voice and spoke. “I wish more people saw music as special like you do. I don’t think they ever will, though. They look at me and judge me as a vagrant or a vagabond because of the way I look.” She looked down at her clothing and sighed. “I guess I can see why.”

“There’s more to a person than how they physically appear,” he said gently. “Sometimes people are more blinded by what they can see than by what is really there.”

Jasmine gave him a watery smile. “Maybe, but too many people are prejudiced by what they can see.” As her words stopped, she glanced skyward. A tiny smile graced her lips as more stars dotted the night sky.

Paul took notice of this and he spoke. “You seem quite fascinated with the night sky. Could it be that there is more to it than just the stars?”

“Why do you say that?” she asked. “Is it because I sang some stupid song?”

“That’s not the reason,” he began. “I noticed that you keep looking at the sky instead of at me when we’re talking.”

“I’m not crazy,” she whispered defensively.

“I didn’t say you were I just noticed that you periodically look at the sky. You did back when we first met and you’re doing it now.”

“I guess,” she said. “I’m just remembering a story my uncle told me when I was a little girl. It was during the time when he was working for NASA and he told me that I was very lucky to live during this time because they were looking for alien contacts.”

Paul tried to react casually, but he knew what was coming next, “Really?”

“Initially I was scared of the idea, but then he told me about this probe they sent up. With it was a giant gold disc, which today probably looks like a record album. He went on to tell me that that was why music was so important because they were sending some of it to the stars. My parents thought the whole idea was positively inane, but I was completely star struck. I wanted to know what songs they sent because I thought it was amazing that someone out there might be interested in hearing it. Music has a way of making enemies good friends and breaking down barriers. If we could find a way to understand others through it, then maybe we could understand ourselves better.”

“Do you really believe that?” Paul asked.

“Yes,” she responded as she glanced skyward once again. “Right after my eighteenth birthday, my uncle stopped working for NASA and started working for this small governmental agency.” She paused for several moments as she looked at him. “Paul, do you believe that there is life on other planets?”

“Yes, I do,” was all he said.

“I do too, otherwise, why would they spend so much money to share our music and culture with the universe?” As her question hung silently in the air, she took a deep breath before continuing. “My uncle moved to Arizona at about the same time and went to work for some secret government installation. He called my parents one night and told my father that they had brought in a couple of aliens. After my father scoffed it off, my uncle started describing the manner in which they were being treated. He was disgusted, so much so that he quit his job and moved back to his hometown. He said that instead of running tests and treating them like oddities, they should have simply talked to them. Later, he told me that when he looked into the eyes of one of them, he felt pity and sadness, but he also felt at peace for the first time in his life. That was when he decided to quit his job. I’d have done the same.”

Paul remained silent as Jasmine continued.

“Later, he told that he had heard a rumor that the aliens had escaped. I wish from the bottom of my heart that that were true. I mean; if a being from another world were to come up to me, I’d welcome him with open arms, not stick the military on him. What do you think?”

“I think people fear what they don’t understand,” Paul said simply. “What does your uncle do now?”

“He’s gone into computers, I think, and does well with them. I haven’t seen him in about four months. But, I think his lifelong dream of being an astronaut will never die. I think he hopes to return to NASA someday and work there in some capacity.”

“If your uncle is doing so well, then why are you scraping by for food?” Paul could not help but ask.

A silent tear slid down her cheek. “It’s complicating, and would probably sound like a cop-out to you, but I wasn’t happy at home. My parents are both successful lawyers and they controlled everything I did. You can’t imagine what it feels like to have someone tell you what foods to eat, who to date, and what to study. To them my love of music was impractical and they refused to support me unless I did what they wanted.”

“I don’t think you’re making a cop-out. I think you have a pretty voice and I like to hear you sing,” Paul said. As they reached the lightened parking lot that was adjacent to the hotel, he noticed her staring at the ground with a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

“Thank you, it’s nice of you to say,” she said. “It’s also nice to have someone listen. People think I’m stupid or on drugs, but the truth is, I’m none of those things, I’m just trying to take control of my life.”

“I know,” Paul said as he led her in the direction of the room. When they reached the door, he tapped lightly on the closed door. “Scott, open the door, it’s me.”

The door swung open and Scott poked his head outside. “Hey, Dad, you sure took long enough.”

“Yes, I know, I’m sorry if I made you worry,” Paul said as he turned around and touched her arm. Gently he tried to draw her into the room. “Scott, this is Jasmine, she showed me the way to the store.”

Scott nodded, but the first thing he noticed about their guest was that she was shabbily dressed and was shyly standing next to the door. “Hi,” he said with a casual wave of his hand.

She returned his greeting but remained by the door, her hands running down over the front of her blouse.

At the very same instant, Paul pulled a chair from the table and turned to face her. “Why don’t you come over here and sit down?” he offered.

She nodded and slowly came over and sat down while Paul explained to Scott how they had come to meet.

“So, you sing?” Scott asked and when he received a confirming nod, he spoke again. “I can’t carry a tune in a bucket.”

Paul looked questionably at his son and got the ‘I’ll explain later’ look.

Jasmine shook her head as she objected. “Yes you can, everyone can sing.”

“Okay, I’ll agree with you on that, but let’s just say that no one would pay to hear me sing,” Scott said sheepishly.

“Let me try something,” Jasmine offered reaching for the tape player. When she looked at it, she remembered it had been broken. Finally, she began to sing a song by Allison Krause acapella. “Love you forever and forever, love you with all my heart. Love you when we’re together, love you when we’re apart...”

Paul sat down on the corner of the bed and watched as the young woman sang. The words struck him because they demonstrated the love he felt for Scott’s mother.

When she was finished, Scott spoke up, “I don’t think I could sing that well.”

“You never know until you try. Just give it a try, I’ll sing along with you if you want,” she said. They sang the line together and then she spoke again. “Okay, now you try it alone.”

Scott did as he was told and when he was finished his smile could have lit the sky. “I can’t believe that was actually me.”

Jasmine smiled at the expression of the happy teenager. “You see, everyone can sing. Now, you try Paul.”

This time Paul blushed and Scott laughed. “Come on, Dad, you can sing. I’ve heard you lots of times in the shower.” Within seconds, he had dodged the pillow Paul had thrown at him.

“I have to fix the food,” Paul groped for an easy way out.

“Oh come on Paul, you did say that where you’re from, music is very important. Show us that it’s true,” Jasmine said.

“Oh all right,” he said and began to sing the line. When he was finished, he turned around without another word and went to prepare the food.

As the three of them were eating about ten minutes later, Jasmine started to feel better. Being in the Paul and Scott’s company had somehow made a difference to her. As they finished, she knew that soon she would have to leave.

As she was preparing to leave, Paul came over to her and spoke, his words laced in sincerity. “Thank you so much for joining us this evening, Jasmine. That song reminded me of how much I love Scott’s mother.”

“I’m glad,” Jasmine said, “you encouraged me to not give up on my dreams. You also reminded me of something I thought I had forgotten about. I guess that’s how life is.” She reached out and opened the door before stepping out into the corridor.

“Would you tell me what you had forgotten about?” Paul asked almost afraid of what the answer was going to be.

“This thing that happened in Arizona, the stories that my uncle told me,” she said. “I think now I must go and find him and ask if he’s heard anything. I don’t think I will ever forget about this, since it’s the reason I want to sing. I want to remind people of who we are and no matter where we come from, we’re here now and we should accept that in other people. Does that make any sense or am I just rambling again?”

“It makes a lot of sense,” Paul said. _I would really like to tell her that she shouldn’t worry about the events at ‘Building 11’ anymore, but I’d never know where to begin, and once I do, I could never end until she knows the truth about us,_ he thought sadly. _Scott would no doubt fail to understand why I told her._

As his thoughts drifted, he was brought back to reality when he heard her next words. “Ever since I was a small child, I wondered what it would be like to talk to someone like that; someone who different. Maybe it’s because I’ve always felt different myself.”

“But, each person is different,” Paul objected. “One doesn’t have to be from another planet to look and feel different.”

She smiled weakly, “you have a point.” When Scott poked his head out into the hallway, she continued, “I’d better go.”

Although, she had no real home to go to, she knew that the two of them would want to be alone. She walked slowly down the hall and outside.

Paul and Scott went back inside the room. “Scott, there’s something unusual about her.”

“I know,” Scott nodded, “I felt it too.”

“She knows about what happened to us at ‘Building 11,” Paul said.

“There’s no way; that was probably kept secret from everyone.”

“She said that her uncle worked there but later quit,” Paul said. “He told her about what went on there in the form of stories.”

“Does she know it was us? You didn’t tell her anything weird, did you?” Scott asked.

Paul shook his head. “No, she did most of the talking. It would seem that Jasmine is a very idealistic person. As we walked, she spoke about what happened with the Voyager Probe and then the events at Peagrum.”

“It could be a trap, remember Angela?” Scott asked referring to the mentally-ill woman who pretended to be Jenny Hayden.

“Yes, I remember, but I don’t think that Jasmine is like Angela. She’s not pretending to be something that she’s not; she’s simply someone who cares enough to question what became of us after your uncle Wayne helped us to escape.”

“Well, maybe you can tell her something,” Scott offered, “she left her tape player here.” The teenager handed his father the small player. Once Paul had put it back on the table and was reaching for his jacket, the teenager continued speaking. “Just don’t tell her everything, this is too weird.”

Paul smiled as he put on his jacket. “Trust me, Scott, I’ll be back soon.”

He picked up the player and left the room.  
  
---  
  
Several moments later, Paul was making his way down the same winding road where he had met Jasmine the very first time. He was hopeful that he would find her, and figured that if she was not where he had found her, he would check the park and then return to the hotel.

By this time, it had gotten really late and when he reached the spot where he had found her earlier, there was no one around. He continued walking until he had reached a park. He remembered passing through it when Jasmine had shown him the way to the store. At one end of a group of trees, he spotted a bench. Jasmine was seated in the center of it, her head bowed.

“Jasmine,” he called out.

She raised her head and when she saw him, she swallowed. “Paul, what are you doing here?”

“You left it in our room, so I brought it back,” he offered sitting down next to her. The dim light cast a shadow on her face, but he saw the tears streaming down her cheeks. Instead of immediately speaking, he reached over and brushed them away.

“It’s pointless,” she whispered shaking her head. “The player is broken.”

Paul looked out across the meadow before speaking. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

She shook her head. “No, I have to go home. I can’t live like this.” She looked at the ground as the tears continued to stream effortlessly down her cheeks. “You’ve known from the start that I can’t survive on my own.”

Paul nodded, but at that moment he came to the realization that what he was seeing was a terribly frightened girl behind the golden voice and idealism. She took a shuddering breath and looked at him. “I once heard a song called ‘It’s My Life’, but somehow, I don’t think it is.”

Paul took a deep breath as he reached into his pocket and retrieved his sphere. He realized at that moment that she needed to know. Perhaps in knowing, she would be able to let it go, and find the courage to make her life her own. “I’m going to answer at least one of your questions,” he whispered as he concentrated on the sphere.

Within seconds he had repaired the damage that the man had done to the cassette player. Once the sphere had returned to its natural state, Paul returned it to his pocket.

As Jasmine watched the blue light emitting from Paul’s hand, she backed away from him, her eyes now wide with shock and surprise. Seconds later, Paul handed it back to her, but when he saw the expression on her face, he extended a hand to her. “Don’t be afraid, I mean you no harm.”

“Who are you?” her question emerged in a whisper.

“I am the one you spoke of when you told me about your uncle’s job in Arizona. The aliens were me and my son,” he paused. “We were captured by a man named George Fox, and were locked up at a place called ‘Building 11’. We managed to escape because a friend was there when we needed him.”

“That’s why you believed me when I told you what my uncle said. You were so quiet throughout the whole conversation,” Jasmine whispered.

“Yes, and I’m really touched that you were so concerned for us during this time. You didn’t even know us and you still spoke so openly with me about it. It surprised me that you would choose to confide these things in a stranger.”

She shrugged as he continued to speak. “Don’t ever give up your dream of making music. Perhaps, one day your family will understand and accept the choices you make for what they are. Regardless of what they might say, always remember that you are a special young woman, and you possess a great deal of talent.”

“Me?” Jasmine’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

Paul nodded. “Yes, and there is something that I must ask of you, something that is so vitally important. Because we are still not completely safe, it is important that you not speak of this to anyone. Can you do that?”

She nodded slowly. “I’ll try, but is that the reason why you asked me about the song ‘Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft’?”

“Yes,” Paul said softly. “It touched me that you would so freely accept someone different than you when there are so many out there who would not.”

“Do you remember what I said when we were walking to the hotel earlier?” she asked shyly.

Paul smiled slightly. “You said a great many things.”

Instead of speaking, she stood up and once she was facing him, she wrapped her arms around him. As she buried her face against his shoulder, she could feel Paul returning her embrace.

“I want to thank you for teaching us about your world of music,” Paul said as he released her and put his hands on her shoulders. “The only thing I ask is that you please return home. In time, your family will have no other alternative but to accept your dreams as they are. If they don’t then find another way to live, life on the road is not fun, it’s dangerous.”

“I’m afraid.”

“I know,” he said as he stood up. “Keep singing Jasmine, someday someone will stop and listen. With a voice like you have, it would be impossible not to take notice of it.”

“I’ll try,” she whispered as he started to back away. “Good-bye, Paul.”

Seconds later, she began to sing to his retreating back. The song, ‘All I Have To Do Is Dream’ suddenly filled the star-filled sky.

Paul smiled as the words to the all too familiar song were heard. He began to sing along with Jasmine as he left the park. With each step he took, her voice began to fade and by the time he reached the spot where he had initially met her, his voice was the only one he could hear.

The end


End file.
